Ayahuasca: Spiritual Promise, Fast Spirituality, and Cultural Appropriation

“What could really happen to me?”
“Could I lose myself, not come back the same?”
“Is it healing or harmful?”
“How do I know if it’s right for me?”

These are legitimate questions people ask me these from time to time.
And this is how I respond.

When we are genuinely seeking inner growth, it becomes essential to distinguish between what attracts us and what truly nourishes us. Not everything that feels deep is actually transformative. And not everything that is intense is necessarily beneficial.

First, there is a reality that is rarely stated clearly: working responsibly with Ayahuasca requires years of preparation. At least a couple.
This is not an experience to approach lightly, and among altered states of consciousness, it is one of the most intense.

If you have never explored altered states before, my advice is simple: don’t start here.
It’s like growing up with comfort food and suddenly deciding to eat an entire Carolina Reaper. It’s powerful. It can hurt. And it does not automatically do you good.

The second point is even more subtle.
For the experience to be meaningful, there must be a genuine desire for change. And that is far from guaranteed.

Many people want something to happen, hoping that change will occur on its own. But this is not the same as truly engaging with oneself.
In those cases, the experience may be, at best, ineffective. Even if you repeat it. Even if you repeat it many times.

No substance does the work for you.
No ritual replaces responsibility.
There is no shortcut to inner change.

Then there is a third element that is often overlooked: integration.
Experiences of this intensity require immediate and ongoing integration, supported by an experienced guide, in the weeks that follow.

When this phase is neglected, the ritual may remain a “powerful experience,” but it does not translate into real growth or lasting change. Without integration, the experience remains unresolved. And unresolved experiences tend to surface later, often in destabilizing ways.

There is also an uncomfortable but necessary topic to address: who is leading these ceremonies.
Increasingly, they are guided by individuals described as “shamans” whose training and lineage are unclear.

In the past twelve months alone, I have been asked to intervene three times in situations where the person leading the ceremony left participants emotionally exposed, without proper support in returning to a stable, functional state of consciousness.
This is what people mean when they say someone “didn’t come back the same.”

And it is rarely the substance itself that causes harm.
More often, it is the inexperience — or improvisation — of those facilitating the experience.

Contemporary research increasingly shows that substances can support healing. Rituals can be supportive. Meditation can be supportive.
But none of them work without a genuine intention.

Lasting change does not come from fast formulas or spiritual shortcuts.
It emerges through a deep relationship with oneself, through time, listening, and the quality of space we allow ourselves to inhabit.

A final clarification.
I do not lead Ayahuasca ceremonies. I am not a shaman. I am a guide.
I have never taken Ayahuasca myself, because I do not consider myself ready, and because I hold deep respect for the culture from which it originates.

In today’s climate of fast spirituality, that choice, too, feels meaningful.